Tuesday, May 31, 2016
It's time for another edition of Alex J. Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer's Support Group. I was hoping to come up with something new and exciting for this month, but instead I decided on something that's worn out and comfortable. Be sure to visit the talented IWSG bloggers who are always available to lend a helping hand, but if you decide to stick around anyway, here's a little ditty from 2013:
The Write Fit
Between working long hours, taking care of the home, and raising a family, many writers struggle to find time to write. There are so many obstacles that get in the way. As an empty nester, I should have less distractions than most people, though that's not always the case.
With our boys home for winter break, I was busy sorting out everyone's laundry. The other day when I was carrying their clothes from the laundry room up to their closets, I also put my husband's freshly washed jeans away. I specifically put them off to the side, so he could methodically arrange them in his closet.
The following night he told me that he couldn't find them. We were on our way to dinner, so I said that I'd help him look for them when we got home. Later I began searching for his pants. I checked all of the boys closets, as well as the laundry room. Still frustrated, I plowed through the bag that was put aside for the cleaners. A task that should've only taken a few minutes, was escalating into a major excavation. I couldn't stop now, and my husband was so torn up about it that he passed out on the couch.
The next step was to search the boys' hampers. Maybe someone threw them in there by mistake. Even though I had just done laundry a few days ago, they both were completely full. I sifted through socks that may have been remnants from the twentieth century, and I still had no luck.
I finally had no choice but to go back into my husband's closet. Of course I found them immediately. By this time it was almost 2 a.m., and my husband woke up when our older son came home. Expecting gratitude, my husband had a different reaction after seeing his long lost jeans, "Oh those aren't the jeans I was talking about. They're only a size thirty four. They won't fit."
I saw him wearing the jeans just a few days earlier. I washed the jeans, and even put them away, but somehow someone else had snuck into his closet to trade his jeans for an identical smaller pair. I calmly told Cinderfella to try on his jeans, while I called in our son as a witness.
As the suspense was building, I explained how denim stretches to conform to your body. I also mentioned that you can't only go by waist size, because cut is an important factor. He had a huge smile on his face, as he buttoned his jeans. "I really do fit into a size thirty four."
Then I pointed out how most of him fit into his jeans. My son laughed, and quickly closed the door in his room, so I wouldn't keep him up any longer. Though I knew that they were the right size, I was not thrilled to have wasted hours of valuable writing time. After this incident, they'll probably send me away to a quiet little place where I'll have nothing but time to write.
Postscript: At present day, my husband now fits into our son's size 33 hand-me-down jeans. Though he's about four inches shorter than our son, they're a perfect fit. He does some of his best shopping in our boys' closets, but they're not conveniently located across the hall from us anymore.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Welcome to the May edition of Alex J. Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer's Support Group. As Mother's Day approaches, I thought I'd re-post a vintage game show parody that many of us can relate to. Be sure to visit Alex and his talented team of writers. Happy Mother's Day!
Meddling Mothers and Disappointing Daughters
Host: It's time to play Meddling Mothers and Disappointing Daughters, the only game show where mothers and daughters try to get along to win prizes that the mothers will never be able to operate in the first place. Let's meet the contestants...(He notices that one mother is still trying to climb up into her chair) Do you need some help Dorothy?
Dorothy: No, I'm fine thank you.
Dorothy's daughter: Just grab my hand, and let me give you a boost.
Dorothy: I said I don't need any help. STOP RUSHING ME!
Host: Okay, let's move on to Gladys and her daughter Gretchen. How many times do you call your mother a day?
Host: And you Felicia?
Felicia: I call my mother once a week.
(A loud siren sounds)
Host: Where's Dorothy?
(The paramedics lift Dorothy into her seat)
Dorothy's daughter: I call my mother six times a day. She hangs up on me, and says, "It's never enough."
(The bell sounds ding ding ding)
Host: You are correct. The answer is, "Never enough." You just won a case of prune juice. You must be very proud of your daughter Dorothy!
Host: All right then. Now we'll ask the mothers a question. Gladys when is the last time you said something nice to your daughter?
Gladys: Don't we get a lunch break?
Host: It's only been five minutes. We'll have snacks after the show.
Gladys: But this is when I eat lunch.
Gretchen: Here Mom, I brought you a sandwich. (takes one out of her purse)
Gladys: It's on rye bread. I like a nice roll. I can't eat this. What's wrong with you?
Fanny: I'll take it. I'm starving. (Looks at her own daughter Felicia) Why don't you ever make me lunch?
Host: Fanny, when is the last time you said something nice to your daughter?
Fanny: That's easy. As we were driving over, I told my daughter that her dress was very pretty...
Host: Well, that is nice.
Fanny: And I'm sure that if she lost ten pounds it would actually fit her.
Host: Maybe we should just throw out that question. Dorothy, when was the last time your daughter took you to the doctor?
Dorothy: You know falling down really makes a person thirsty. How come no one offered me a drink or a sandwich?
Host: If you answer the question, I'll get you both.
Dorothy: Okay, yes please.
Host: Yes please what?
Dorothy: I would like both a drink and a sandwich. Soup would be nice too, but I don't want to be a bother.
(Gladys is dashing across the stage with her walker. Her daughter is jogging behind her)
Host: Where are you going?
Gladys: I just remembered I think I forgot to turn off the stove.
Host: Can you have someone else check on it?
Gretchen: It's my stove, and I just got a text that the fire department is heading over to my house.
Gladys: Are we stopping for lunch first, 'cause I still haven't eaten?
Host: Good luck ladies. Be sure to tell us your new address, so we can send you a lifetime supply of incontinence products.
Dorothy: Continents? I can name the continents! There's Asia, Africa.....